All language subtitles for Running on Empty (1988)-en

Shit.

Hang in there, man.

Lighten up, McNally. It's only a game.

Hey, man, believe it or not,
you made the starting line-up.

No shit?

Yeah, Andrews has the chicken pox.

You're good for two games, at least.

Well, that's great.

If you don't like it, why do you do it?

Baseball's my life.

Jomo. Jomo! Come here.

Come here.

Now, listen, Jomo.

I want you to take this to Harry, all right?

Take it to Harry! Come on!
Take it to Harry! Take it to Harry!

Go on! Take it to Harry!

Take it to Harry!

Go on! Go on, Jomo!

Jomo! Jomo!

Come on! Come on!

Get down! Get down!

All right, come on.

- I still think you should go.
- No, I can't get off from work.

But you're the only one that knows all
those statistics. I can't remember nothing.

My brain's a sieve.
How do you learn it all that stuff?

It's in the government reports.
It's in the library.

You think they'll really listen to us?

Well, if they don't, there's going to be
1,500 barrels of radioactive waste...

buried just a few miles from here...

and you might have grandchildren
with three heads.

Now, look, I'm going to rehearse you.

And there's a delegation
from Point Arena going, too.

Jerry Baker. He's very good on his feet.

And Joe will be there.

Look, I got to go. I'll miss my ride. Okay?

Martha, remember the study group's
at my place on Thursday.

Okay!

How did it go?

They wanted me to go to Tallahassee
and lobby.

I talked them into sending Joe and Paula.

Joe and Paula?

It's okay. They'll be all right.

The nerve those assholes have,
putting that shit near human beings.

Let's blow this pop stand. I'm starving.

We got shoes, two cars, four feds.

Mom, there's Jomo.

You two,
get out of your jeans and into bed.

What's gonna happen to her?

- Someone will take her home.
- We never had to leave her before.

Sorry, kid.

- He got to keep that.
- I thought I told you to get in to bed.

- It's morning.
- Get into bed!

I'm going to wash my hair.

Who's this?

Mom and Dad. Who do you think?

You're kidding.

"Arthur and Annie Pope
continue to elude capture...

"despite sightings of the couple,
who went underground...

"after claiming responsibility
for the 1971 bombing...

"of the University of Massachusetts
military research lab. "

What does "elude" mean?

Not getting caught.

"The laboratory is credited
with the development of napalm...

"used extensively in the Vietnam War. "

Why did they have to blow it up?

They didn't stop making it
when they asked them politely.

Come on, Danny, I'm serious!

They were dropping that stuff on people.

"Annie Pope is the former
Anne Patterson...

"daughter of Donald Patterson,
president of American Telekinetics. "

Is this Grandpa?

- It must be.
- And Grandma?

Yeah.

Do you remember them?

- No.
- Not even a little?

They look kind of uptight.

- Industrial waste all around.
- Rad!

Get them while they're hot.
Get them before they rot.

- Where's your mother?
- She's in the shower.

I talked this morning with some of the
people who knew the Pope family best.

John Kungle played ball
with the young man...

who was known here in Florida City
as Richard McNally.

He was a good student, and a good friend?

He was a cool dude.

That's how legends are made.

What's his IQ? 49?

- He's going to UCLA.
- No kidding?

No, I'm not kidding.
I said, he's going to UCLA.

Excuse me.

These photos of the couple
are 20 years old...

and are not considered too reliable.

The couple is still wanted for the
1971 bombing of their university lab...

in which a janitor was blinded.

FBl officials in Miami said that despite
the presence of their two children...

the Popes should be considered
as possibly armed and dangerous.

In further local news...

There's food for you.

You look pretty, Mom.

Get into bed, Kimosabe.

Okay, let's see.

Blue eyes, blond hair. You're okay.

Or are you?

What's the matter, kid?

I don't know.

I just feel kind of lousy, you know?

You're supposed to feel that way at 17.

Really?

It's terrific not recognizing yourself
when you look in the mirror.

It's wonderful having a new name
every six months.

We were there a long time.
It's hard to leave.

We may have to cut your hair, too.

Maybe this time I could shave my head.

- Send your brother in.
- Yeah.

I hate this.

The Phillies won again last night.

Things are looking good, then.

Things are looking great.

The MacArthur feud with Truman.

I don't think we covered that
in the local paper.

Maybe you better try The Washingtonian.

No, I'm interested in how it affected
the heartland of the nation...

the small communities.

- This is social history.
- I could show you The Eagle.

We just put our back issues on microfilm.

- This is it?
- Take it right over there.

Thank you.

St. Martin's Hospital, Medical Records.

- Three dollars?
- Yes.

Where do you want it mailed,
Mr. Mansfield?

Manfield.

No, I'll pick it up.

I need to get a passport.
The company's sending me to Cairo.

- Are you in oil?
- Military.

You're listening to your favorite
oldies station in Norfolk, Virginia...

Ralph, the cat needs to be fed.

Need anything else?

- No. I'll call the booth again in two weeks.
- Okay.

Listen, your mother...

She died four weeks ago. Cancer.

Your father was with her.

You were just too hot to contact.

He said to tell you not to worry about him.
He's okay.

Sorry.

Okay, who wants lunch?

Me.

How's tuna?

Yecch.

There's a kid in my class who traded me
Duke Snider for Valenzuela.

Yeah, so?

So, he's a jerk.

Snider's worth about $20.

He's from the Brooklyn Dodgers.

He's old.

This card is an antique.

- Can I have white bread?
- Just eat it.

Hey, kid.

You. What's your name?

Michael.

- Why are you asking him that?
- He's not used to it yet.

He better get used to it fast.

What's my name?

- Paul.
- Paul what?

- Paul Manfield.
- Spell it.

M- A-N...

F- I-E-L-D.

- What's your mother's name?
- Just stop it.

I'm waiting.

Cynthia.

And your brother?

Stephen, all right?

What the hell's your problem?

I got some clothes in the city.

You can wear the thrift shop ones.
The new ones...

have to be washed first.

Yes, sir!

Sorry about this afternoon.

Sophie's dead.

What?

A month ago. The big "C."

Oh, babe.

I talked to her after the feds came,
to tell her we were okay.

She never let on.

I can just see her
standing there with Morris.

Two fat old Jews, ex-Bolsheviks...

talking to their red-diaper baby
on a phone from a Laundromat...

and she's fucking dying.

That lady loved me.

Last winter, when they arranged
for her to meet me in Chicago...

she flew there on an hour's notice...

alone, in a blizzard.

She's terrified of flying.

She was green when she got off the plane.

I took her over to the lounge to talk...

and we sat in a corner and I said,
"I wish it was easier. "

"You wish it were easier," she says.

She's correcting my grammar...

like I'm one of the kids she teaches.

There's nothing left to go back to now.

There's only us and the boys.

We're all that's left.

We must...

We have to hang on to each other.

May I see his records?

I'm afraid I lost his records.

They gave them to me,
and I know I packed them...

but I just can't find them.

I'm always losing things, right?

My husband says I'd probably lose
my head if it weren't screwed on.

But I can write for a copy.

Make sure to write for those records,
okay?

You can have two electives.

Music, typing, mechanics, computer
programming, or home economics?

Music.

- And?
- And?

- Home economics.
- His dad's a cook.

Find an empty seat, Mr. Manfield.

All right, listen up, everyone.

Listen again, please.

Now, can anyone tell me the difference
between these two pieces?

Yes?

One is pop and the other is classical.

At least we know you're not deaf.

How about you, Mr. Spaulding?

Could you give us a deeper distinction?

The first one's bad...

and the second one's good.

That's a matter of opinion, not a fact.

I'm sure there are several people in this
room who would disagree with you.

How about you, Mr. Manfield?

Would you care to venture a guess?

You can't dance to Beethoven.

That's very good, Manfield.
Do you listen to much Beethoven?

No, not really.

How did you identify this piece?

I guess I've heard some.

I'm sure the rest of the class
can identify the other composer.

You're quite correct.
You can't dance to Mr. Beethoven.

Can you tell me why, Mr. Manfield?

Because the Beethoven piece...

doesn't use a constant rhythm or tempo!

Madonna is 4/4 time all the way through.

The melody changes,
but the rhythm is constant.

So you can dance to it.

The quartet changes
both melodically and rhythmically.

I'm going to play them again.
Listen for this.

Mr. Manfield.

We'll have to find an instrument for you.

An instrument?

Everybody who takes music
is required to play in the orchestra.

Do you play something?

Piano.

Play something.

Well, there's one thing you don't have
to do, and that's play in the orchestra.

I'd like to hear how you sound
on the Steinway I have at home.

Get out of here.

- Get a job, Dad?
- You betcha I did. Right in town.

- I'm a cook. Guess which kind?
- Italian?

- You got it.
- Radical!

Do you have to say that?

- Where'd you get this?
- Public library lost and found.

It's right around the corner
from the restaurant.

April can be cold up here.
I thought you might need these.

Keep those slugger hands from cracking.

- Did you make the team?
- Yeah.

- Great.
- What about me?

Sorry, kid. Nothing in your size. Have to
try a movie theater on the weekend.

Which reminds me, we have to chop
some firewood on Saturday.

Oh, Dad, I'll do it tomorrow.
I'm not going to school.

- How come?
- They're taking class pictures.

Right.

- How is that school?
- Not bad.

- Teachers know anything you don't?
- Yeah, they're okay.

Did you have any trouble
with the registration?

I had to see the guidance counselor
at the end of the day.

And?

He wanted to know
what colleges I was applying to.

What did you tell him?

Well, I said I hadn't decided yet.

Good. Just tell them something,
and forget about it.

Otherwise they'll keep bugging you.

- How about you, small stuff?
- I don't want peppers.

Bless you.

There's a kid in my class
who's really crazy.

You're not exactly the poster child
for mental health.

He knows train schedules.

You never know.
It might have come in handy.

Really, Dad. All over the country.

He knows what time trains leave
from Omaha to Atlanta, Georgia.

Stuff like that.

Get to know this kid.
What are you doing with that safety pin?

What safety pin?

- I got a job.
- Really?

Tell us, my dear.

How are you going to contribute
to this false, capitalist economy?

I'm going to be a receptionist
for a Dr. Milton Cosswell.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

There was a sign up at the post office.

He doesn't mind paying me in cash.

He didn't even ask why.

It's probably good for his taxes,
or something.

Anyway, it means I can pick up supplies,
if we need them.

He seems like a pretty nice guy.

Mom, thanks.

Sounds good.
Looks like we all got what we wanted.

Hello, is anyone home?

Hello?

Who are you?

I live here. Who are you?

- Is Mr. Phillips your father?
- Yes.

And is this you in the pink-

I've destroyed the negative.

So now we've determined
that I belong here. Let's talk about you.

Your father said I could use the piano.
And the door was open.

- We do have a bell.
- I rang the bell.

No one answered, so I came in. I'm sorry.

You go to the school?

Yeah.

- I haven't seen you there.
- That's because I just started.

So how come you're not there?

I had a fever last night.
My mom made me stay home.

- Why didn't you?
- I felt better today. And I was bored.

You're strange. I cut.

I didn't feel like having my picture taken
with those subhumans.

You're very good, you know.

I'm okay.

What's your name?

- Michael.
- I'm Lorna.

I'd better be going.

- Where are you from?
- Oakland.

- You born in California?
- No, New York.

Really?

I want to go to school in New York,
but my mother's afraid I'll get mugged.

Your family move around a lot?

No, not really. You play?

God, no. I couldn't stand to practice.

My older brother is the virtuoso.

He's at Yale. He does everything right.
Where are you going?

Oh, that.
I haven't thought about that much.

You haven't though about it much? You're
going to have to apply next semester.

Yeah?

What do you mean, "Yeah?"

Look, I really... I gotta go.

You're certifiable.

You're welcome.

Mr. Manfield, I'd like a word with you.

I understand you had occasion
to visit my house yesterday.

I went to look at your piano.

I understand you did more than look at it.

- Do you have a piano at home?
- No, sir.

How do you practice?

I can't much.

You're a talented musician, Manfield...

but that doesn't give you the right
to act like a criminal.

Is that clear?

Yes, sir.

Manfield?

We'll find you a piano.

Now let me see, girls.

Thank you. Just go to the back of the line.

You are certifiable.

What is this? Some sort of smart-ass joke?
You're taking cooking?

I want to learn how to cook.

Yeah, right. You have a burning desire
to learn how to make Apple Brown Betty.

What are you doing here,
if you think so highly of it?

They wouldn't let me take
auto mechanics...

and I didn't have time to take the issue
to the Supreme Court.

Now that leaves Phillips and Manfield.

Please, would you take the last booth?

Today's menu...

is tuna-walnut casserole.

This may be auto mechanics after all.

Take your four-cup measuring bowl.

You know, my father thinks
you're the best thing since sliced bread.

That's not what he told me.

A can of tuna.

Listen, don't worry.
Don't let him scare you.

You can do anything
if he thinks you can play music.

Half a cup of walnuts.

We're having
a chamber music concert Saturday.

And they're boring as hell,
you have to dress for a funeral...

but you'd probably like it.
You want to come?

Two stalks of celery.

- Yeah, I've got to think about it. Celery.
- Celery.

Here.

He's getting seduced
by all this bourgeois crap.

- Fucking chamber music.
- It's music, for God's sake.

Decadent, white-skinned, privileged crap.

Lot of people sitting around in ties
and pantyhose in wing chairs...

- like at your mother's house.
- Like at my mother's house.

He's not going.

- Says who?
- Says me!

- I don't believe you.
- Read my lips: He's not going.

Since when did you become
the minister of culture?

You'd let him go
if it was a rock 'n' roll concert.

- That's right! You bet I would. Yes.
- Unbelievable.

Are you out of your mind?

I'm not letting him go
because it's not safe.

He doesn't have to be on display
for the entire community of Waterford.

And because it's not rock and roll.

You think you're cute, Dad,
but you're full of shit.

- Don't talk to me like that.
- Why?

Aren't we supposed to question authority?
You taught me that!

Who do you think you are?
General Patton?

Why is it any more dangerous for me to go
to school than it is to go to the concert?

Because there are 600 other kids
at the school.

Give me a break.

You're not going.

Mr. Manfield!
To what do we owe this pleasure?

Lorna invited me.

She usually doesn't show
such good judgment.

I'm delighted.
There's some people I want you to meet.

Sam, this is Michael Manfield,
the boy I was telling you about.

- Pleased to meet you.
- Hi.

Perhaps we can convince you
to play something for us.

I have nothing prepared.

I heard you working on some Brahms
the other day. It was perfectly lovely.

You can play it
after the second intermission.

I'd like to, but I really have to go
pick up my brother at a friend's house.

You can play before you have to go.

Listen, Dad, would you excuse me?

I'd like to get Michael something to eat.

- Hope to hear you soon.
- It was really good stuff.

How come you didn't want
to play for them?

Personally, I wouldn't consider it,
but you're supposed to love this stuff.

It's all right. You don't have to explain.
Mozart was crazy, too.

- Want to go up to my room?
- Okay.

All right. Finish your milk.

Excuse me.

Guitar is my life.

You're very confusing, you know.

Who, me? Why?

'Cause sometimes you can be so straight...

and then other times,
you turn around and you're like that.

- It's always, "Yes, sir" and "No, sir. "
- I'm polite.

- Polite is phony.
- It's not phony.

- It avoids confrontation.
- Is that what you're doing now?

You're avoiding confrontation?

Don't you ever want to say, "Cut the shit"?

Lorna! Is Michael in there with you?
I want him to play.

He left. He went to pick up his brother.

I thought this was my room.

Your mother wants you downstairs.

There's a tree.

Mrs. Powell? The doctor will see you now.

Did I leave my purse out here?

Thank you.

Excuse me?

Excuse me!

Do you have an appointment?

Nope.

Gus!

What's cooking, mama?

I look at you, and I can see you standing
on the corner of Michigan Avenue...

in a Mexican blouse
and those crazy silver things.

Big silver earrings.

God, that was a long time ago.

How's Artie?

He's okay.

He's great, actually.

He did some work in Florida
on a toxic waste dump.

Here, he organized a food co-op...

and he's trying to
get his restaurant to unionize.

And how's you and Artie?

We're okay.

I mean, you know, it's hard.

I think about you.

I think about you.

I hope you're safe.

How do you manage this?

Got a house...

two kids.

It's kind of like
you're leading a regular life.

I'm a good liar.

But I'm tired.

Shit.

Oh, God.

Hey, chief.

Hello.

Hello?

That's all you got to say to this guy
that just drove...

800 miles out of his way to see you?

You look great.

Then how come I feel so uneasy?

Artie, let's take a walk.
I got stuff to talk to you about.

I'm tired.

Go ahead, Paul. Take a walk with him.
You haven't seen him for 12 years.

You're out of your fucking mind!

- You owe us!
- I don't owe you a goddamn thing.

Do you know what
your asshole friend here wants me to do?

Rob a fucking bank! Can you believe it?
A fucking bank!

A "political action," he calls it.

We've been assigned this little job
by the Liberation Army.

Who are under the mistaken impression
that they've been supporting us...

and we owe them something!

What do they want my kids to do?

Knock off the fucking president?

You want to show
what you got in your car?

Nothing. It's my stuff.

That's not the impression you gave me.

Let's look, shall we?

Get the kids down here.
I want them to see this.

This guy's still a fucking maniac!

Just stop it.

Boys! Get down here! Now!

I want you to know
guns are not what we're about.

Now, get back in the house.

You're going to change the world, Artie...

by organizing these little food co-ops?

I'm going out.

You can stay the night...

but when I get back, I don't want to see
these things within 10 miles of my kids.

Annie, I'd like to explain this.

I'm listening.

You know,
we've been under a long time.

A lot of bad shit has happened.
A lot of bad shit keeps happening.

But we're dead...

as far as the world is concerned.

We pull an action
and they bury it in the newspapers.

It's like it didn't happen.

The only time the pigs
or the media pay attention...

is when something
or somebody gets blown away.

Great. If you can't beat them, join them.

Do you think we're going to win this
by turning the other cheek?

Why don't you try walking on water?

Why don't you try growing up?
There's nothing to win.

It was over as soon as the war ended.

The war didn't end, Annie.
The war ain't never going to end.

This has nothing to do with politics
or the merchandise in my car.

This is just Artie's pissed.

Artie's pissed...

'cause Artie's jealous.

And Artie's jealous...

because you want me.

And I sure want you.

That's a bad situation.

Sooner or later,
they're just going to blow up.

You know, I feel sorry for you.

I do.

You're a 46-year-old infant.

Everything has to be your way, doesn't it?
When you want it, where you want it.

You're not a revolutionary.

That requires more than playing with guns
or with yourself.

It requires compassion, discipline.

Are you judging me?

You judge yourself, lady.

You're living like some kind of silly-ass,
middle-class, suburban housewife.

You're living a lie...

just like you said.

Why don't you take this little
Norman Rockwell family and turn them in?

The feds would be glad to get them.

And then you could get the fuck out.

I wish I could.

Now get out.

Are you okay, Mom?

Yeah.

Fine.

Go to bed.

I am not Paul. I am not Paul! I am-

- Paul, come in.
- I'm not Paul.

I'm Arthur.

Don't call me "Paul. " I am Arthur.

I am Arthur Eli Pope!

- What's the matter with Dad?
- He's just had a lot to drink.

Born in Plattsburg, New York,
July 16, 1944!

A US citizen. My mother's...

maiden name is Silbowitz.

My father's real name is Popov.
Morris Popov.

My driver's license number is 4-3-5-7...

1-1.

My draft number is M-S-8-9...

-3-5-8-4.
- It's okay.

My name is Pope.

It's okay.

You said walk, not hike.

- Are you tired?
- No.

- It's beautiful.
- Yeah.

You know,
I was really surprised when you called me.

Why?

I wasn't sure if you liked me or not.

Sometimes you're so...

distant.

I'm not too sure
if you like me too much, either.

Take it on faith. I usually don't follow
people I don't like for 10 miles...

into the middle of the woods.

Why are you so angry?

That's wit, not anger.

- You scare a lot of people.
- Who, besides you?

A lot of people scare me.

Who scares you?

People who are nice, like my parents.

What's wrong with being nice?

Let's put it like this.

My mother is really nice.

She never does anything wrong or mean.

She even gives her old clothes
to the maid...

but she doesn't really want to know her.

In 10 years,
she's never even seen Betty's husband.

He waits in the car
when he comes to pick her up.

Your father's sure not like that.

Why? Because he plays Madonna in class?

What does he know about you,
except that you're good on the piano?

They see what they want to see,
and they block out everything else...

especially if it might not be nice.

They don't seem to get in your way much.

My parents? It's just their way
of not believing who I really am.

They think that eventually,
I'll turn back into the little girl...

in the pink dress
that's in the picture on the piano.

And what do you think?

You really want to know?

I think that I'll go to New York
and learn to write...

and that I'll come home every Christmas...

and everyone will be really polite.

That's doesn't sound so bad.

Maybe not, but I'm not in New York yet.

So what about you?

I don't know a thing about you.

You might as well have sprung full-grown
out of the head of Zeus.

Who are your parents? Ozzie and Harriet?

Yeah, sometimes.

Do I get to meet them
and see how you came out so perfect?

I mean, it seems only fair.

I showed you mine, you show me yours.

I guess this is the end of the rest stop.

What did I say?

I thought it would be nicer down here.

You don't transmit too much information.

What?

I said,
you don't transmit too much information.

Sorry.

What are you doing over the summer?

I have a job pumping gas.

You finally got the Supreme Court
to hear your case, huh?

What about you?

I don't know.

You thought it'd be nicer over here?

Yeah.

What are you doing?

I'm looking for something
for my mom's birthday.

You mean,
in case somebody happened to leave...

a Cuisinart or a diamond ring
lying on the beach?

Yeah, that would qualify. It has to be
something either you make or find.

- When's her birthday?
- Next week.

That's beautiful.

It's for your mother.

You give it to her.

Okay.

It must be nicer over there.

Here, chop these.

No, no, no. Watch. Move.

You hold the knife...

and you just do that.

That's neat. Let me try.

No, no. I'm a vegetarian. I don't want
pieces of tiny little fingers in my stew.

Here. You stir.

Were you expecting someone?

Hi.

I'm Lorna.

Michael invited me.

Well, come in.

Your friend's here.

Hi.

- Hi.
- Can I help?

No. No, it's okay. Thank you.

You cut your finger.

Yeah.

Is this your girlfriend?

Hi, I'm Stephen.

That was delicious, babe.
You outdid yourself.

This pilgrim food for my very own WASP.

But you must forgive me, my darling.

I couldn't get myself
to make one of those Jell-O molds.

You're forgiven this time.

And now, for the pi ce de r sistance.

- Let me, Dad.
- You're under arrest.

Look at this.
You got it all over your bellybutton.

Look at that.

Oh, God. I'm old enough
to set the house on fire.

I'm sorry, I thought your mother's name
was Cynthia.

On birthdays, we're all Sam.

It's a little family tradition...

resulting from a particularly good LSD trip
I took in 1968.

More wine?

- Would you give me a break?
- In Europe, kids drink wine.

Get your mother her present
before I call Alcoholics Anonymous.

Thanks.

It's just what I wanted.

- Really?
- Absolutely.

What is that, a butterfly?

No, it's a whale of a present.

- Thanks.
- I'll play it for you sometime.

This is from Lorna.

That's beautiful.

Thank you, Lorna.

Mine, you get later.

You bet.

On your feet!

Let me help.

I like her.

Yeah?

- I like her, too.
- I know.

You sure this is the Phillips' kid?

They didn't switch you at the hospital,
or anything, did they?

You know,
I can't believe how incredible they are.

Do you know what my mother would do
if I gave her a shell for her birthday?

They're okay.

That's you all over,
afraid to commit yourself.

I thought it was just me.

I'm very happy with you.

I'm very happy with you, too.

It's okay, I want to.

- You weren't in cooking.
- You noticed.

- Where were you?
- I cut.

- Why?
- I didn't want to see you.

Manfield, could I talk to you for a minute?

You don't have to look so anxious.
If you've done something wrong...

I don't know about it. I just want
to talk to you about your college plans.

I was thinking of taking a year off, maybe
traveling to Europe, listening to music.

I can't tell you what to do, but I think you
ought to make an application, anyway.

You can always postpone entry.

I'd like you to consider applying
to Juilliard.

Early admission.

I looked at your academic records.
You should have no trouble getting in.

Where's the rest of it, by the way?

There's nothing in your file
from your old school.

It was lost when we moved.

When it comes through, I'd like to see it.

In the meantime, you look at that.

I'd be happy to write you
a letter of recommendation.

Thank you.

Get back to me when you've looked at it.

You wouldn't talk to me.

Now, get up.

Go down the stairs and out the back door.

Be quiet.

I'll be right behind you.

I'm barefoot.

Sit down.

What am I doing?

I just wanted to talk to you.

You wouldn't listen,
the other day at school.

I couldn't stay with you that night.
Not because I didn't want to.

If you want to go back, it's fine with me.

- You're a bully.
- No.

I'm a liar.

My name isn't Michael.

It's Danny.

My parents are Arthur and Annie Pope.

They're in trouble with the FBl
for blowing up a napalm lab in 1971.

There was a man who was almost killed.

A janitor,
who wasn't supposed to be there.

We put "Sam" on the birthday cakes,
on all the birthday cakes...

because we change our names
every time we move.

I've been doing this since I was two.

I don't know any other way.

I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry.

I wanted to explain
why I can't talk about a lot of things.

Like college. I can't go to college.
I can't leave them.

And I wanted to tell you...

why I couldn't be with you.

Not without your knowing.
I didn't want to lie to you.

Now, I have no right in telling this to you.

It's dangerous for you,
and it's dangerous for them.

I'm sorry. I just couldn't stop myself.

You can do what you want to. You can
tell your dad anything. I don't care.

I just needed you to know.

I don't know what I'm doing.

And I love you.

I love you.

What do I call you?

Michael. Nothing changes.

They really don't want you
to go to school, huh?

We haven't talked about it.

- I can't ask them.
- Why not?

It would mean breaking up the family,
not seeing them again.

They don't have anything else.

I can't believe that they'd want you to
give up your whole life to stay with them.

Talk to them. They'll understand.

You have a lot of secrets, don't you?

Now you have another one.

Been to see Lorna?

I like that one.

She's full of beans.

You really like her, don't you?

The smart ones are always the best.

Are you sleeping with her?

- Yeah.
- Okay.

Go ahead, hit the sack.
You got school tomorrow.

How long have you been playing violin...

after you stopped playing seriously piano?

About five years.

When did you come to the States?

In 1980.

All right. Thank you very much.

Mr. Manfield. We're ready for you now.

Who did you say you studied with?

Edward Phillips.

- Where was this?
- Waterford.

- New Jersey?
- That's right.

We seem not to have
all your school records.

There was a school fire at my old school,
and the records were lost.

We only moved to New Jersey this year.

So you've only studied with Mr. Phillips
for a short time.

Yes, ma'am.

Who else have you worked with?

A lot of different people.
No one important.

We move a lot.

You'll have to supply us
with SAT scores and...

we'll have to have those records.

Mr. Manfield.

Oh, sorry.

You are very talented, you know.

Thank you, ma'am.

A cheese pizza for Mrs. Patterson.

I don't think Mrs. Patterson
ordered a pizza.

Is this Murray Hill 68434?

- Yes.
- Someone ordered it.

Just a minute.

What's this about a pizza?

You ordered one.

I didn't.

Will you have to pay for it?

No, I'll have to eat it.

I really don't care. Hold on.
Could you knock next time?

- I'm sorry.
- Listen, I have to go. Yeah. Bye.

I was wondering if Michael
had ever mentioned anything to you...

about his old school.

Not much. Why?

They never sent his records.

So?

I called the school.
They have no record of him.

They probably got eaten by a computer,
or something.

They don't have a computer
in Blue Hill, Kentucky.

What are you on his case for?

- We know nothing about him.
- So, he's an axe murderer.

I mean, come on! I thought he was
the best music student you ever had.

He is, but that doesn't explain
his missing records.

If you want to know who he is,
why don't you talk to him?

He's a person!

He's not a computer printout!

Would you please close the door?

- Mrs. Manfield?
- Yes.

- Thank you for coming.
- How do you do?

- Would you like some coffee?
- No, thanks.

I want to talk to you about Michael.

I didn't want to meet at school,
because he doesn't know we're talking.

But he's been upset lately, and nervous.

I thought
maybe there was something at home.

No.

I know these things are private. I just
thought maybe I could help, if I knew.

But there isn't anything. Really.

Maybe he's worried about Juilliard.

Juilliard?

You know about his plans?

- Yeah, sure.
- And you don't object?

No.

They were very impressed
with his audition.

They're prepared to take him,
just as soon as they get his records.

He'll have to go then, won't he?

Is there a financial problem?

We're not the Rockefellers.

He could be worried about that.

We always manage.

There are scholarships. He could get one.

He's very talented.

We may not have a lot,
but we care about our kids.

I'm sure you do.

I was just wondering,
has he ever had a serious teacher?

How has he gotten this far?

I don't know.

He's picked up a little here and there.
We move around a lot. Why?

I called Blue Hill and they have no record
of Michael Manfield.

That's because he wasn't registered
there under Manfield.

See, I was married before,
and Paul adopted him.

But it took until just this year
to adopt his name legally.

He's under my old husband's name
at Blue Hill.

He can't finish his application
without those records.

I'll get them.

You'll have to, because they won't
release them to anyone but a parent-

I said, I'll get them. All right?

- Now, if you'll excuse me.
- Yeah, sure.

What's wrong, Mom?

Nothing.

I just love you.

I've got to pick up your father.

Do you like it? I traded the van in for it.
Thought it'd be more practical.

Besides, it keeps them guessing.

What's up, Sam?

Don't call me that.

Okay.

Danny's applied to college.

Where?

Juilliard.

How do you know?

Phillips. He wants him to go.

Why doesn't he keep his goddamn nose
out of our business?

Because he thinks he's talented.

Has Danny told you about any of this?

No.

What are we going to do?

Shit.

Goddamn fucking shit!

Why can't he go?

Because we'll never see him again
if he does.

Why? We could arrange to meet him.

Is that what you want?

Ten minutes at an airport lounge, and the
FBl all over his ass the rest of the time?

You want him standing in phone booths
and Laundromats like my parents...

only connecting with us
through the network? I don't think so.

If he goes,
we're never going to see him again...

and that is unacceptable to me.

I never even let myself think about this.

I was so stupid.

All I wanted
was that we would be together.

We should have left Danny
with my mother.

- We never should have had Harry.
- Stop it.

I can't, Arthur.
Look what we're doing to these kids.

They've been running their whole lives
like criminals.

And they didn't do anything!

It isn't fair.

I know it isn't goddamned fair.

They've taken some bumps, but it's not
going to help anything to beat yourself up.

Look at them, for God's sake.

Look at those kids. They're magnificent.

They're beautiful.

And bright. Caring.

How badly could we have done?

We should turn ourselves in.

So we can sit in prison
for the next 15 years...

and look at the kids through bars?

You can only get through this
one day, one hour at a time.

That's what I'm doing.

And Danny's all grown up.

We have to let him go.

This tooth is killing me.

I think I lost a filling. Better go see Jonah.

I'll take a bus.

- I always worry when you go into the city.
- Why?

Because that's where they get everyone.

It's been quiet.

Sometimes it gets too quiet.

Remember what you used to say
when the kids were small?

"Don't worry
unless you don't hear anything. "

Be careful, all right?

I don't see anything.
And there's nothing on the x-ray.

I'm not complaining.

You need anything else?

No, thanks. We're okay.
I'm working for a GP.

How about cash?

Okay.

If you'd give me some notice,
I could arrange to have more.

No. This is great. Thanks.

- You always make me feel so guilty.
- Why?

You're living it.

Yeah, I guess I am.

Jonah, I need you
to make a phone call for me.

Of course.

Madame?

Hi, Dad.

I asked Jonah to set this up.

You can call the cops if you want to.

I'm sorry.

This is hard for me, too.

- Will madame have a drink?
- No, thank you.

I wonder if you'll ever know
what it's like...

not to see your child for 14 years.

Not knowing whether she's living or dead.

Not knowing whether that child...

is responsible for the death
and mutilation of other human beings.

Whether to hold yourself responsible...

for that death and mutilation...

because it is your child who is pulling
the triggers, setting the bombs.

I didn't kill anybody.

I didn't come here to defend myself
or to talk politics.

If you don't believe by now that what I did
was an act of conscience to stop the war...

then there's nothing I can say to you
that's going to make you understand.

A man was blinded and paralyzed.

He wasn't supposed to be there.

Don't you think there have been times...

that I would have blinded
and paralyzed myself to take that back?

It's all Arthur's influence.

No, Dad, it isn't.

It was my idea.

I'm living with the consequences
of my own choice.

- I don't believe it.
- Well, that's your problem.

Your mother and me...

Do you think about us?

- Do you really have to ask that?
- Yes.

The last thing
I remember you saying to me...

was that I was an imperialist pig...

personally responsible for the war,
the spread of poverty, racism.

- I was young.
- Yes.

You were young.

And talented.

And beautiful.

And so full of love.

My God, Annie.
Why did you throw it all away?

Your mother misses you terribly.
And Danny.

Will you take him, Dad?

He wants to study music.

He's good.

They want him at Juilliard.

Just like they wanted you.

Do you still have that practice board?

So far. Danny learned to play piano on it.

So you taught him?

There's some irony in this,
don't you think?

Here you are...

asking me to take Danny...

into a life that you ran from
like a shot out of hell.

Is this what he wants?

I think so.

He got himself an audition
without telling me.

He'll need money,
and people to care for him.

Don't you think this is too much to ask?

I hardly know the boy.

If we take him...

there'd be FBl agents
following us everywhere we go.

You'd never be able to see him.

We're too old for this.

Yeah, I think it's too much to ask.

I have another son.

He's 10. Harry.

I heard about it on the news.

I plan to turn myself in...

when he doesn't need me anymore.
When he's old enough.

And Arthur?

I can't speak for him.

Please think about this.

I should go.

Annie.

He can come to us.

Please, tell Mom that I love her.

And I've thought about you both so often.

I've called out to you.

I'm sorry
that I've caused you so much pain.

I guess I'm about to see what it feels like.

I love you, Dad.

I saw my father.

You what?

I saw Donald.

You just walked into his office
and sat down at his desk?

No.

I had lunch with him at La Petite Marmite.

What for?

To see if he'd take Danny.

Take Danny?

So he can go to college.

You're kidding.

He said he would.

He said he would?

You know what could have happened?

Did Phillips put you up to this?

Nobody put me up to this.

It's not about Phillips. It's about Danny.

He wants to go. He applied.
He went to an audition.

- He went fucking where?
- Juilliard.

I don't believe my ears.

Just give him a chance.

I'm going to call Deborah and see
if she can make him up some records.

Why?

Because Phillips called the school
I put on the registration form...

and they told him
there was no Michael Manfield.

It's going to be okay.

He can get records made up in time. Artie!

We're moving base camp, kids.

We have a few days, and we're gone.

Cover your tracks.

You hear me?

You have anything you want to tell me?

No.

Good.

My father wants to move on.

Why?

He gets a sense.

Just like that?

Just like that.

When?

Anytime.

You'll just disappear?

What about us?

- They need me.
- I need you!

You didn't talk to them?

You can't keep running from something
you had nothing to do with.

You deserve your own chance.

- I want to talk to you.
- There's nothing to talk about.

Phillips knows too much.

You were letting your feelings
affect your judgment.

Besides, it's academic.

Nobody will talk.

You don't know that.

They're going to try
to pick up everyone they can now.

We're finished here.

- We can close up shop slowly, can't we?
- We'll have to.

Otherwise we'll attract attention.

Everybody goes to work and school
until further notice.

If there's a problem,
will meet at the picnic area near Route 80.

There's no reason
to think they're onto us yet, so stay calm.

- Dad, can I talk to you a minute?
- Not now.

I was thinking about staying.

- Don't you have school?
- In half an hour.

I want to stay.

Stay?

Do you think this is a good time
to discuss this?

We can't talk now. We're in trouble here.

I taught you!

I taught you! We cannot break rank.

A unit is only as good as its weakest link.

We're a unit!

I taught you all of this,
don't you remember that?

I don't want to hear you
talking about this...

in front of your mother or your brother,
do you hear me?

I said, do you hear me?

Are we finished talking about this now?

Mrs. Taylor.

Just remove everything
and put on the gown.

The doctor will see you in a few minutes.

All right. I'll be right back to weigh you.

Could you help me with this zipper, dear?

Did you hear what happened
to Elizabeth Powell last night?

No, I didn't.

The FBl came to see her.

The car that was used
in that bank robbery...

where they killed those policemen...

it was rented with her credit card.

Can you believe it?

How could they have got hold of her card?
She never even uses it herself.

That's how come she didn't notice
it was gone.

Those people are crooks, Mrs. Taylor.

They probably just took her name
out of the phone book...

and made up a false card.

Can you imagine the bad luck?

Paul Manfield, please. His wife.

We're in a hurry.

Gus took plastic from one of my patients.
He used it to rent the car.

Frankie? I'm going out for a smoke.

- Are we in a hurry, Mom?
- Yeah. We have to get Danny.

I hope your husband is all right.

Okay, let's go.

- Mom, I'll meet you there.
- We don't have much time.

Salinger uses imagery
in Catcher in the Rye to-

- Excuse me.
- Yes?

Mr. McGuire would like
to see Lorna Phillips.

- Did he send a note?
- No, ma'am.

Ms. Phillips?

We're leaving.

You didn't ask them?

I did.

Artie fell apart.

He didn't even make any sense.

Without us, he can't keep it going.

He needs us to hold him up.

All families break up.

Why do you have to carry the burden
of someone else's life?

He's my father.

I love you.

But I have to go.

I don't know how to say goodbye.

Well, don't.

- Where is he?
- He'll be here.

He went to say goodbye to his girlfriend.

He knows better than this.

This is Bob Stone, with a Z-90 newsbreak.

New Jersey police have reported the death
of Liberation Army member Gus Winant...

at large after the bank robbery
yesterday afternoon.

He was shot resisting arrest
near Waterford...

where he had stolen a car,
and was attempting to flee.

More at 5:00.
We return you now to the ball game.

Get the bike out of the back.

Now get on it.

What are you talking about, Dad-

Get on the bike. You're on your own, kid.

I want you to go to Juilliard.

But, Dad, I want to go with you.

We'll see you again. You can be sure.

Your mother has arranged things
with your grandfather.

Call him.

And I think you have some friends
around here.

I love you, baby.

We all love you.

Now, go out there and make a difference.

Your mother and I tried.

Don't let anyone tell you any different.

Goodbye, Danny!